Out of the Ashes
by Killjoy Kitt3n
Summary: Something saved him. He should have died. But someone knew he was worth saving... Scar may have survived a horrendous attack, but he has yet to face the most challenging battle of all: changing himself.
1. Prologue: Rebirth

**A/N:  
><strong>Hello there! This is first Lion King Fic I've done, so I'm still getting the hang of writing all the characters personalities. This is just the intro, so bare with me haha. And, of course, comments would be very helpful :)

This is the story of Scar, after Simba takes the throne, but also that of his childhood. It's based on the concept that perhaps the hyenas did not actually kill Scar as opposed to what the movie led us to believe, BUT did not actually show. This is meant to explain how and when Nuka, Vitani, and Kovu entered the story, and Zira's relationship with Scar, as well as Kopa's story. But the main purpose of this story is to get a feel for the true character of Scar, and to reveal all his loves and losses, and his inner demons.

Reviews are appreciated, and I will try my best to reply to them :) Suggestions, constructive criticism, random ideas, etc, also welcome!

Anyways, without further ado, here is the very first part, Out of the Ashes! Enjoy :)

Song: Rootless Tree -by- Damien Rice

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

Slinking in the shadows, a prince of darkness, a king of lies, he was finally left to the death his life had merited. The lion, now a mass of shredded skin and seeping blood, lay motionless on the cold ground. The searing pain had taken over his body long ago, and left his mind in a surreal state of semi-consciousness. His heart was fluttering weakly; his eyes peered out into the abyssal darkness of the night, reflecting the small flames that still danced among the bushes. Though his head was roaring with the cries of hyenas, the clap of thunder, and the pain that drown out all thoughts, a single message managed to seep through the cracks.

It was over.

It was finished. It was _finally_…over. But what accompanied that thought was the shock that, for him, a physical death was actually a _relief_. All the torment and loss, and silly regrets, they had come to an end, and in truth, he had not left much goodness in the world to be missed for. Sure, he could pretend to be the misguided fool, the tortured soul that many an old friend had made him out to be, but at the core of him was a heart as black and arcane as the vast sky above him. Though he hid that fact very well in life, he dared not do it in death.

So there he lay, coated in the scarlet of his own blood, silent and unmoving. He could hear things, voices of pain and of relief, of retreating hyenas, and the glorious roar bellowing from his nephew's throat. He felt things too, gently and numbed, but there was a damp cold sensation that traveled throughout his body as fresh rain trickled along his back, mixing with blood. He knew he was being forgotten already, they must have thought him dead. Either that or they cared not enough to see if he wasn't.

The seconds passed quickly for him, melting into minutes, and minutes into an hour. Yet it seemed like no time had passed at all. The sharp sting of death had not yet come to him, and he wondered why, why this pain would not end, and how impossible it was that he had not already bled out. Barely floating at the back of his mind, was the thought that perhaps he was not going to die as quickly as he thought. Maybe the agony would last forever, a fitting punishment. The thought made him want to laugh. Then, it came to him, as a tickle at first, a fleeting idea. But the idea soon consumed his comatose state, maybe he wouldn't die after all. Perhaps there was a reason for him to live…

He blinked; his eyes began to come into focus once again. Though the rain fell steadily now, a small part of the brush around him was still alight with dying flames, charred bits of trees and grasses lay about on the dusty ground. It was still fighting, though the rain tried so hard to smother it into ashes.

He knew, he could not die here. Not now, he still had a mind to fear death. He would no longer feel the enveloping self-pity, he needed to fight. And for the first time in his life, he truly fought with everything bit of strength he had left in his little black heart.

He lifted one heavy paw from underneath him, and struck the ground in front of him, his gleaming claws digging into the dirt. Contorting his broken body, he lifted the other paw, and it hit the ground with a resounding thud. In small painful movements, he began to drag his aching body towards the bushes.

Out of the ashes, he too would rise, and be-

Reborn.


	2. Falling

**A/N: **Well, here's chapter two! Not a very long one unfortunately, but the next one should be quite a bit longer. Thank you for the few reviews I've already gotten!

**Song: **Best of Me -by- The Used

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

Falling. He was always falling, either into some endless ravine or onto the hard ground only to be ambushed by a pride of faceless, voiceless lions. He often awoke from such dreams in a cold sweat, plagued by the memory of watching his brother tumble into the valley, by his own paws. Before he had murdered Mufasa, he dreamt of the same things, watching his brother fall, but in those days it had very nearly put a smile on his face. Ever since he had assumed the thrown, these horrible nightmares had taken their place.

Scar lay on his side, breathing with some difficulty, and feeling the burn of his open wounds. He had managed to pull himself up under a large boulder jutting out from the ground, a good distance away from Pride Rock.

Had it already been three days since the fire had died, and the old king had fallen from his short-lived reign? He didn't know, he lost track of time long ago. He lifted his head, searching the bright sky for a moment. He was starving, but was not strong enough to hunt, and besides, that was a female's job. The dark lion sighed deeply.

Just as he lowered his head once again to the ground, Scar paused for a moment, someone was coming. The soft sound of approaching footsteps made him cock his ears back, as his emerald eyes scanned the horizon. No one was there, yet the noise became increasingly louder, until it was practically over his head. In fact…

Scar tilted his head upwards to the rock above him, only to recoil as he found two bright blue eyes staring right back at him. A cub! A scrawny one at that, and this was what he was afraid of? He scoffed.

"Hey mister, what are yah doing down there?" The little tan cub peered underneath the rock with innocent, inquisitive eyes.

"Oh, nothing much really. Just _dying_, that's all." Scar replied smoothly, almost smirking.

The girl cub looked taken aback for a moment, but then regained her joyful demeanor.

"Well, don't you worry, mister! My name's Nasira, and that means helper." She raised her head proudly, "So maybe I'm here to help you out!"

"Oh, thank heavens. I'm _saved_…" Scar plopped his head down on his paws with a thump. Couldn't he just be left alone to die in peace, instead of having some pesky cub badgering him?

The small girl, Nasira, leapt down from the rock, landing just near Scar's muzzle. He raised his head in disgust, eyeing the lioness, with her dingy grey-tan coat, and little tuft of white fur on her head.

"Well come on, yah can't just lay there!" She stopped, then gawked at the deep gashes in his body, where the blood had dried and crusted on his fur. Scar raised an eyebrow.

"Oh…you're really hurt."

"Really? Oh, well look at that. I hadn't even noticed…" He turned his head away with a sigh.

"Nasira!" A lioness with a strong voice was calling from the distance. "Nasira! Where are you?"

The cub looked embarrassed for a moment. "Oh! That's my mom, I bet she can help."

"Mm." Scar was doubtful of that. But the cub ran off to get her, all the same.

Nasiri returned with a slender, elegant young lioness, with dark fur and bright eyes.

"Oh! Well…hello. Nasiri said she had found a 'a funny lion' who needed our help…" she offered, gingerly moving forward. Shy and perhaps naive, but beautiful all the same, Scar thought. He feigned a smile, baring his teeth.

"Why yes my dear, your daughter seems to have discovered my hiding spot." He paused, grimacing. "And who might you be? A charming young lioness, so far from her pride?" Nasiri giggled in the background.

"Well," she blushed, "Actually, we're going south to join with Queen Zira. She's started a new pride, in the Outlands."

"_Queen…_?" Scar pondered what he had missed these last few days, realizing that things were very different indeed, in such a short amount of time. Zira had always been loyal to him when he ruled the Pridelands, even to the point of trying to make advances, all of which he ignored. He wondered now if that had been a mistake on his part. Pah, of course not. She couldn't last long on her own anyways, especially with no king.

"Yes, she rules now. King Simba of the Pridelands banished her, after the old king was killed. She was still loyal to him, so Simba banished Zira and all the others who followed her."

Scar scoffed, he should have figured as much. "Well, I'll tell you a little secret." He half-smiled, "The old king's not dead. In fact, he's here in front you."

The lioness looked stunned, clearly she was in favor of this "old king", or at least liked what the stories that favored him made him to be.

"Your higness…" she stuttered out.

"Now, now dear, I really don't think formalities are called for at the moment." He sighed, as she dipped her head in embarrassment. Well, at least he still knew how to charm a young girl, maybe even enough for her to follow him.

"Do you need any help? Those wounds look very bad." She asked, looking truly concerned.

As much as he utterly loathed asking for help, he knew that he couldn't last long on his own, what with the condition he was in. But he would never admit it, not to anyone else.

The lioness helped him to his feet, as he struggled to bear the weight on his swollen paws.

"My name's Marini, by the way."

Scar smiled again, "_Pleased_ to meet you." Though he faked half the things he said, this niave girl and her cub could not tell the difference. But, for the first time, he felt just a twinge of regret for using their aid. They had been awfully kind to what was practically a stranger after all. But, ah, no matter.

"I think I shall join you on your journey, Marini. I'm looking forward to paying my Zira a visit…"


	3. Storm on the Horizon

**A/N:** Okay, well its not as long as I'd liked it to be, so I'm posting two chapters tonight :) I'll put the next one up within the hour. Reviews are greatly appreciated! As well as suggestions or constructive criticism. Thank you very much for the reviews already!

Song: Come in Closer -by- Blue October

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

A Storm on the Horizon

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><p>Sunset fell like a red curtain spilling out onto the parched land. The dying sun gleamed on the horizon, illuminating the pillars of termite mounds and obscure rock formations that covered the land. Devoid of food, and water, but full of dark, brooding lions, this barren place was immediately recognizable to Scar, as soon as their procession of three had set foot here. They had finally reached the Outlands.<p>

Scar took in a deep breath; it had been another long and exhausting journey for a lion as injured as himself. Three full days and nights, of wounds healing and then tearing open once again. But, ah, the feeling it gave him, just to stand on this hot rocky land, his fervor seemed to return. Many days he had spent here in his youth, mingling with the few outcasts and young rogues that travelled through, or sometimes just seeking solace alone and far away from his disdainful family. So much had changed, for now a new generation of lions and lionesses claimed this "outcasts' paradise" as their own.

"Mister Scar…is this it? Are we there?" Nasira asked, running up along side of him. Scar turned, his thoughts interrupted. A crooked grin slowly formed on his face, as he stared at his new future.

"Yes, my little one. We are here."

Marini slunk up next to Scar, resting on her haunches, nearly brushing against his mane. In the few days the group had travelled together, she'd grown quite comfortable around him, perhaps she was too naïve, but she did not know it.

"It's not…exactly what I had expected." She said, flatly, her soft voice echoing into his ears.

"Sweet Marini, don't you know beauty is in the eye of the beholder? There is much more to this place than what _your _eyes can see. Come, let me show you."

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><p>Lost in her thoughts, Zira paced back and forth, circling the inner cave of her lair. Her head drooped low; her mind was a stormy sea of memories. It had been one day short of a week since her beloved had lost his life. Oh, if only she could see him now… How she longed to hear his voice. But he was beyond her now, and he left a mission in her stead. She must have her revenge. She lusted for the blood of Simba and his queen, and nothing else would satiate her thirst until she had it, until she had him by the throat.<p>

"Zira! My queen-"

"_What_?" She turned and snarled at the intruding lioness. Zira smiled a bit when she saw the scruffy young girl recoil a bit.

"There are intruders on the southern border. Three of them, one is a dark male. The other is a female with a small cub."

Zira perked up for a moment, ears turned forward. Rogues? No, they never travelled in family groups. Couldn't be a challenging male either, none around here had the audacity to attack in daylight, they'd do it by the cover of night.

"Thank you, I'll see to these _intruders_ myself." She growled. "Now get out."

The young lioness turned and hurried out of the mouth of the cave. Zira knew she must face them, show her dominance as the new queen. No one could take that away from her. And if they were from the Pridelands, she'd kill them on the spot. What was a little more blood spilt to her? They'd stolen everything from her, took the very life from her veins.

Lifting her head, she strutted out of the wide mouth of her cave, a pillar that touched the sky. Darkness was just beginning to fall, but her keen eyesight allowed her a glimpse of the three travelers in the distance. She scanned the night sky, clouds were descending on this land, as the soft crackle of far away thunder rang out, shattering the silence of the warm air.

The rest of her pride were preoccupied with getting settled for the night, but not Zira.

Tonight, she hunted.


	4. Monsters

**A/N: **Hello again :) Killjoy here. Just so everyone knows, the way this new character is described may or may not make him sound like a vampire, however, that is not what it is about. He is not any sort of bloodsucker, sparkly or non. Just your lovable little murderous beast :) Enjoy!

Song: The Sharpest Lives -by- My Chemical Romance

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><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

Monsters

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><p>At this very same time, across the great mountain valley, a storm of a different sort was brewing.<p>

In the heart of a young rogue lion, the storm intensifies.

-o-

Passion, pure fiery passion. It ebbed and flowed from her pulsing veins, erupting forth in scarlet sheets of liquid satin that trickled down her body. So sensual, so intimate, was this feeling that consumed him, made him lust for more. His powerful jaws sunk into the tender flesh, his ears against her soaking neck, hearing those faint fleeting gasps for air, the muffled pleading, so much like echoes or resounding memories. Nothing compared to this amazing sensation, and he reveled in the feeling. He could hear it now, the frantic beating of her heart, growing more desperately rapid until it finally began to slow.

The beats came few and far between now, as her head rolled to the side, and hit the ground with a soft thud. Her eyes lost the glow to them, became lifeless and glazed. They stared, forever transfixed on some unseen thing in the distance. Where was it—ah, there. He heard it. The last beat.

Slowly he unclamped his jaws from around her sweet soft neck, and flicked his tongue around his muzzle, cleaning off the blood. He gave her his last regards, and began to stray away from the body. He did not commit such a crime of killing another lion for the body, for the food he was starved of. No, he killed simply for the pleasure, for the sport of it, and for the thrill it gave him.

But soon he would grow tired, simply bored of this place, as he did with all the past camps he had made. The silvery glow of a starlight night, yes that was his only friend. But here in this land of the sun, he had many enemies. He longed for the night, to feel the sweet caress of her blackness once again.

So he came to a decision, as he stumbled about in his murderous euphoria. A decision that, although he was not consciously aware of it, would ultimately lead to the best and last days of his vile and beastly life.

He longed for the darkness, so there he would go. He would follow the night into her very own domain.

He would go to the Outlands.


End file.
